


Make It Up As We Go Along

by guileheroine



Series: The Everthere [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, Scraps, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/pseuds/guileheroine
Summary: Korra and Asami on the steady, special road to life partnership.Snapshots and companion pieces taking place in the universe ofThe Everthere.





	1. Durch Die Blume

**Author's Note:**

> I love inhabiting this particular universe, and there's a lot to it in my head that doesn't make it into the main story. So this will be a place to put random snapshots, flash fics, prompts, any ideas that didn't fit in a main chapter etc. :D
> 
> You will definitely need to be following [The Everthere](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8541466/chapters/19581724) to enjoy this supplementary material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Valentine's Day schmaltz. Takes place between chapters 9 and 10.

The wind battered the filmy pink petals and Asami held the bouquet in two tight hands with a feeling that skirted uncertainty, like a child clutching a toy before her, even a weekend into twenty-three.

 

She wasn’t going to walk in and hand these to Korra. That’s not what this was, and so what if it looked like that?

 

That’s not what it was. And the luxury to imagine for a second that it was didn’t change that.

 

It was bitterly cold this evening. Her breath misted the air as she fumbled for her keys. The door clicked open, streaking with small droplets when the heated air of home hit it. Naga bounded forward as if compelled by the cool burst, stopping just before the threshold and waiting for Asami to push past her.

 

Asami balanced the flowers in the crook of one arm and knelt instead. Naga could enjoy the fresh air a minute longer.

 

“Hi. Hi, angel.” She scratched Naga’s ear and felt herself begin to smile. Naga found the gap in her coat, where the wide lapels parted, and nuzzled. So sweet. So happy and sweet every evening when she came home; and Asami was a little brighter in turn each time she stepped in. She pressed an absent kiss into her fur.

 

“Um. What are you doing?”

 

Asami looked up to find Korra’s amused, rather quizzical smile, where she had frozen at the bottom of the stairs. She shrugged blankly up at her before directing a slight smile down to Naga.

 

Korra shook her head. “Please come inside. I do not want you catch a cold right after your birthday, and neither does Naga, especially not on Valentine’s Day.“

 

Asami smirked as she stood. “And why does Naga give a hoot about Valentine’s Day?”

 

Korra quirked a disappointed brow at her choice of word, because why would her dog hoot, presumably, before walking off.

 

“Well… Naga does -” she called, from where she had just entered into the kitchen. Asami peeled her coat off, deposited the flowers on the table towards the kitchen door where Korra had disappeared, and sat on the rug on the floor so that Naga could resettle in her arms. “As the love of my life,” continued Korra’s voice, suddenly a little smothered by whatever she had gone in there to put in her mouth (leftover cake, Asami presumed), “…she does enjoy certain privileges.”

 

She emerged in the doorway, a plate of heart shaped cookies in Naga’s favourite bowl in her hand.

 

“You know how to make _dog treats?_ ” Asami said laughingly. At the words, Naga’s ears perked up against her face, and Asami kissed one where it twitched.

 

Korra made a face like she was unimpressed that Asami hadn’t deigned to appear sufficiently impressed. Asami pointedly kept her attention on the dog.

 

“Oh, all these kisses,” Korra said snidely after a minute, “it really is her day, isn’t it?”

 

Why, would you like some?

 

Asami smiled inwardly, and wryly, at her unspoken retort, which was really at her own expense and not Korra’s, after all.

 

“If we’re fighting for your dog’s favour, you should really keep in mind that she’d almost certainly take a bullet for you. Trust my math.”

 

Korra’s tone had shifted when she spoke again; Asami knew they weren’t playing anymore. “I know. But, you know -” she pointed to the front door with her chin, setting the plate down on the table, “she waits whenever you work late.”

 

That was new information to Asami. And it showed on her face, in her widened eyes.

 

“Yeah! Since about after Christmas break. I think she just got used to having everyone around twenty four seven. I mean, I told her that you wouldn’t be around forever anyway, one day, whenever we end up moving out -“

 

Korra always reported on Naga as though she was the either the most precious thing in the world, or every exhausted thing said to her fell on deaf, fluffy ears.

 

“Then don’t move out,” Asami said, directing her words to the ears in question. And wishing against her own throwaway tone, with an embarrassingly large part of her heart, that Korra might take them to her own.

 

She didn’t reply, but that was because she had finally noticed the bouquet laid on the table. “Oh, hey! Those are pretty! Wow. Did you… uh, lilies, right?”

 

She may as well have put the question mark at the end of the question she was actually asking - Korra wasn’t hard to read, never when caught off guard.

 

“No, they were not, uh, _discounted,_ ” Asami bit into the word with a knowing smirk, which Korra returned.

 

The next step in Korra’s enquiry was obvious, and it hung in the air. It wasn’t Flower Day. The peonies in the vase were only just slightly beginning to die. Asami steeled herself.

 

“Oh, are they for me, then?”

 

She was teasing, of course. It might have been nicer if she wasn’t.

 

Asami shook her head and smiled. “They had a birthday thing at work for me. No shortage of pretty flowers around today, I guess.”

 

Korra dipped her smile as if to say, “Oh, right.”

 

Asami had still left them on the table right by her, though. And Korra was still the one to take them, sniff appreciatively, find them a pot and water them.

  
  



	2. Halcyon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beach Episode (TM), between chapters 3 and 4.

“ _Please_. Let’s go.”

 

Asami slammed the car door shut and leaned back against it as she fixed Korra, who had already leapt up the steps to the front door, with a skeptical glare. “It’s _October_ ,” Asami said. She wrinkled her nose. “And Wednesday.”

 

“Yeah, and it feels like June!” Korra sat down on the top step to properly face her - she was gearing to put up a fight, to win. Asami's defences slackened almost prematurely at the prospect. Well. It _was_ unseasonably warm - “And you just said you’re done for the day so…? Asami...”

  

Asami sniffed. “You’re not - just don’t make me try to surf. Okay? And _not_ Coney Island, I already showered today.”

 

“That a yes?” The grin that split Korra’s face was enormous, and when she saw it Asami decided that maybe this was reason enough to say yes. She couldn’t suppress her own resigned smile.

 

“Ten minutes,” Korra said. “Get your swimsuit!” It took her another moment to find the right key for the front door. Asami let her fumble at the keyhole. She'd get the hang of it soon enough.

 

In said ten minutes she managed to come around to the idea of a beach trip pretty squarely. So Korra hadn’t seen the sea all summer, and “ugh, what kind of summer is _that_?!” Which, that was a good point - that Asami could drive to the coast every day of summer if she wanted only made her more sympathetic to Korra's plight. And she was right about the weather, and the fact that Asami had the rest of the day off (how rare); it was just that… She had been anticipating a more relaxing day off. Not that she minded in the least, but having two extra living, breathing specimens in her house was taking some getting used to. It had only been a few days.

 

“It _will_ be relaxing,” Korra promised, tapping a gentle rhythm on the handle of the glove compartment. “No surfing. You don’t even have to go in the water. You can _so_  totally relax, right now even - I'll drive if you like.”

 

“I wanna get there today,” Asami said.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Rockaway Beach was only somewhat close, but it was one of Asami’s favourites, since she was irresistibly drawn to the charm of a high boardwalk; and she decided the forty minute drive might be worth it - wouldn’t be so bad in this relative heat if the windows were down.

 

When they arrived Korra kept her promise.

 

Or more likely - Asami thought, as she watched her prop back on her hands, elbows digging in the sand, and sigh serenely - Korra had forgotten about her word, but one look at the vast shoreline had simply put her in the mood for nothing in particular as well. Korra let her arms bend away and fell onto her back, toes carving tiny ditches in the pale sand.

 

Asami sat cross-legged and stared into the horizon, letting the gentle breeze lull her into a state of tranquil nothing. The sun was warm on her back, like she hadn’t felt in a while. She reached up to gather her hair into a ponytail so she could feel as much of it as possible, pulling out a few strands that had caught in the neck of her bathing suit. Korra shifted with the tide beside her.

 

“Did you come here in the summer?”

 

She had avoided saying ‘how was your summer?’, though it would practically leap off her tongue if she let it. Asami knew: it sounded callous. This was the tactic she favoured  - did you come to the beach, dine out, go biking, catch a break at all in the summer?

 

“Once or twice,” Asami said briefly. She glanced down with a smile.

 

Korra looked up at her with a squinted eye. She was right at home on the sand, and she could read the calm right out of Asami’s own face, too. She returned the smile. “See, you are enjoying yourself. I _will_ teach you how to surf, you know.”

 

"Oh, when?"

 

"Someday," Korra said enigmatically. 

 

“Hey, don’t you have, like, a ton of work you should be catching up on?” Asami snorted. She kind of felt bad for leveling that at her, the very instant the words had left her mouth in fact, but Korra took none of it to heart. She was utterly at bliss, soothed by her surroundings.

 

A content little groan left her throat before she replied. “Mm. I just… I just love the water.”

 

“Should I leave the two of you alone?” Asami said.

 

Korra’s head gave a minor jerk and her eyes flew open again, before the sunlight made her hiss and squint. Asami laughed aloud at her - and Korra had to giggle at her own rather painful mistake, too. It quickly ebbed into a floaty, pleasurable laugh, as she raked her fingers through the sand. One that Asami couldn’t have anticipated the delicate allure of. She looked back at her with a lightness in her stomach. Korra’s even breath rose and fell gently, calmed her from the very sight. She curled her smooth, dark legs into an indulgent curve that bore deeper into the sand and made Asami, too, stretch instinctively. The sunlight kissed her everywhere that Asami might not admit she wanted to.

 

Korra wasn’t at her peak. Her body was still more perfect, more unassumingly beautiful, than any body had the right to be.

 

“I like this,” Asami told her, waiting for an eye to tentatively crease open before nodding down to Korra’s bikini top. “It’s really sleek. Fashionable.” She was wearing a simple deep blue two piece, of that soft seamless material so much of her sportswear was made of, with a wide band of white lining the waist and high neck.

 

“Well, thank you for your verdict,” Korra said lightly, but it accompanied a very sweet smile. She laughed through her nose. “And you're looking longer than ever.”

 

She was referring to Asami’s own swimsuit, the high cut leg that only gave Asami more leg. It was nothing special. She had picked the most snug black number she could find, expecting to be a little bit chilly. It _was_ October.

 

And accordingly, the water was not fine, at least for Asami. She shivered as she submerged the sensitive flesh of her stomach, taking a long moment to adjust to the not-quite-icy bite. She splashed her face, careful to squeeze her eyelids tight enough that no saltwater breached them. Then she discerned Korra a way off and trudged forward, determined to shake the discomfort out of her system.

 

The temperature seemed to suit Korra just fine. But so did tank tops in the dead of December. (Asami had been quite aghast that first year when she showed up to her dorm in one, and had even offered to lend her a sweater.)

 

When she reached her Korra flipped in the water, disappearing under it for an impressive length of time. She emerged again on her back, the same position that she had made on the sand, before making a mildly regretful sigh. “Oh. Why isn’t like... _wavier_ under me today?”

 

“Science.” Asami said.

 

Korra scoffed. “I swear it’s me. Did you see that wave when we were walking up?” She combed a straggly clump of hair away from her face. Asami floated up on her front beside her. She smirked.

 

“It’s ‘cause you have an outie. Cover it up.”

 

That earned her more that a scoff. “It’s - it’s _not_! It’s like… halfway? It’s not!”

 

Asami cackled. Korra turned on her with an indignant frown, shoving her into the water till she was on her back, before she grabbed her around the waist, drew her down - Asami splashed back, but not fast or hard enough to outdo Korra. “Fine, stop, _stop_ ,” she giggled, “fine, it’s a sexy outie -”

 

Which only seemed to rile Korra further, as another delighted splutter drew out of Asami. She twisted herself out of her grip and dove away suddenly, but Korra caught her by the leg and pulled; and she was laughing harder still - so much that Korra had to take mercy when she found her face again.

 

Korra shook her head with an embarrassed smile, eyes still daggers. But she only held the grudge for as long as they were in the water.

 

Asami was first to tramp back onto the beach, because the chill really was getting to her. She sat with her hands on her knees and waited, a somewhat meditative pose, like before - until Korra returned, proceeding leisurely, gloriously out of the water like something a bit divine.

 

Asami gave a little wave. As Korra reached her she held out her hand, and Asami could see a conch in her cupped palm. “Oh, that’s huge,” she remarked.

 

Korra settled on her knees and shook the shell off. Then she held it up to Asami’s ear; and Asami, not expecting the sudden nearness, placed her own hand straight over Korra’s, the other securing a soft clasp on her wrist. She steadied her breath, and tried not focus on the way her fingers had fallen onto the cool shell right between the gaps of Korra’s.

 

“Close your eyes eyes, it sounds like the ocean,” Korra said earnestly.

 

Asami smiled inwardly. _We’re_ at _the ocean,_ she wanted say. _Stupid_. But Korra’s wide, gentle eyes had her own - was watching intently for her reaction, all innocent enchantment, and Asami didn’t have the heart. Korra’s smile curved slow and wide in perfect time with her own.

 

Asami heard the ocean in one ear and her heartbeat in the other, and listened until they were hard to distinguish.  


	3. Easy Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra gives Asami a haircut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just what was behind a throwaway line in Chapter 10, actually taking place during Chapter 6

“Sit still!” Korra chided. It wasn’t the kind of thing she thought she’d have to tell Asami’s kind of person.

 

Asami bowed her shoulders guiltily and laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I’m cold.” She exhaled, straightening on the stool so that her back was parallel to Korra where she stood behind her. “Now you know how I feel when I’m trying to do your makeup! Okay.”

 

“Good.” Korra smoothed the old scarf around Asami’s shoulders, ensuring it was tucked in place. There was plenty of light here, the stark winter sun filtering in through the square windows of her parents’ massive kitchen. She reached across to the sideboard and picked up the scissors her mother had supplied her with. “Two inches?” She declared more than asked.

 

“Four,” Asami clarified with a sniff.

 

“Oh, come on, it’s so _pretty…_ ”

 

“Four,” Asami repeated, this time with a diffident laugh made even cuter by her sick voice. “It’ll grow back. Even faster.”

 

Korra conceded with a grumble. She set the scissors down and pulled her comb through Asami’s long hair one final time; checking the parting, and that she hadn’t missed a single strand. It was only slightly damp from her shower in the morning, nearly back to its typical volume. Korra surveyed it, roots to tips, somewhat reluctant to pick the scissors up again.

 

“It’s so thick for its length,” she said wistfully.

 

Asami snickered.

 

“Shut up. Seriously. What do you put in it?”

 

She made a dismissive sound, shrugging enigmatically, before Korra pressed her shoulders down in place again. “Just lucky,” she replied. “Coconut oil is good, though. I can do yours, if you like.”

 

Korra would more than like. She added this suggestion to her mental list of things to try (with Asami, invariably) this vacation. Before she could voice her enthusiasm, the door creaked open and her dad came in, with Naga on a leash.

 

“What’s going on here?” He grinned widely as he pulled his gloves off. Quickly, he ushered Naga into the sitting room and closed the door, since she would make a mess of the mess of hair on the floor.

 

“I think I’m about to commit a crime,” Korra said bluntly, as she watched Asami wave a little ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ in quick succession to Naga before she disappeared. “Butchering this beautiful hair,” she explained, giving her dad a smile. “Thanks for taking Naga out!”

 

“Oh, that’s no problem,” said her dad, settling beside the sink after he poured himself a pint glass, then another, of cold water. “You girls are here to relax.” He crossed his arms.

 

“Well, Asami’s relaxing,” Korra said, glancing down at her serene face. “Okay, I’m doing it. Do not move.” She picked the scissors up once again and held the comb straight in the last stretch of Asami’s hair, murmuring “Goodbye…” in a playfully tight voice as she checked her measurement.

 

Just as she was about to snip, Asami sneezed.

 

Korra released all her tension and concentration in an irritated exhale. “Damn it, Asami.”

 

Her dad tsked sympathetically, sparing none of his pity for Korra. “Oh, Asami. Want a drink?”

 

Asami composed herself as Korra gathered her focus again. “Don’t do that again. Alright, ready?” The waves in her hair rippled as she nodded and Korra decided this time to make short work of the kill.

 

The first _snip snip_ still felt like slaughter.

 

She swept the ends through again before cutting. In a matter of seconds Asami’s hair was four inches shorter. Korra combed it carefully for any strays and anomalies; and just when she thought she had found the last one, Asami’s head dipped forward and it slipped through the teeth.

 

“No, you’re drink- just wait...” she sighed, a little aggrieved. Asami raised her head again and wiped her mouth, about to hand a glass back to Korra’s father. It remained in her hand once Korra’s expression drew her attention.

 

“Oops… I thought you were done,” Asami said sheepishly. It melted the ire out of Korra. She measured the final strands by eye and sheared them off swiftly.

 

“It’s alright. I am now.”

 

A subtle, low cough drew her attention to her dad where he stood with his arms folded. “Could I have a turn after Asami, sweetie?”

 

Korra narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if he was serious. A look at his straggly, more than shoulder length hair told her he probably was. “Sure! Gimme a minute.”

 

“You’re in for a treat,” Asami told him sardonically. Korra gave her hair a retaliatory tug and Asami giggle was cut off by a testy, “Ow.”

 

Asami’s hair didn’t fit in Korra’s single hand, and it was so silky that if she tried to make it, the strands slipped out - she needed both to properly smooth out the dense, dark mass. Asami sighed contentedly when Korra began it to brush it through with her hands. She smiled knowingly. This would feel wonderful, especially to her heavy head. Korra knew because she been on the receiving end of Asami’s ministrations enough times. It wouldn’t hurt to give back - in fact, she quite appreciated the sensation of her soft hair against her fingers.

 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

 

Asami didn’t move. “Mm.”

 

At the back of her neck where the hairs began to wisp her skin was sensitive and warm. “Give me that,” Korra said brusquely, surprised at the quiet of her voice - and held her hand out for Asami’s glass. Asami held it up for her to stick her fingers against, and then Korra pressed those cool pads gently on that spot under her hefty hair.

 

“Ah,” Asami whispered when she held them there.

 

“Did you ever have your hair short?” Korra asked, as she resumed with her gentle attention.

 

Asami took her time replying. “Yeah, once. When I was like fourteen.”

 

Korra indulged in that mental image for a moment. “Bet it was cute.”

 

“Hm, I think you might wanna see the pictures before any kind of judgment!” Asami laughed, making Korra laugh again. She was in a particularly frivolous mood today, despite her ailment. The fact that Asami was so at ease here at home with her family infused Korra with a warm, buoyant energy.

 

“I think you should see _me_ with short hair,” her dad piped up.

 

“Oh, Dad, _weird_.”

 

He chuckled loudly. “There _are_ pictures, but I’d rather you give me the benefit of the doubt.” Korra and Asami exchanged a glance and decided not to.

 

When her hand brushed the corners of Asami’s ear she felt her twitch slightly. It must have been a shiver. Korra shook the scarf off, and pulled Asami’s sweater tighter around her shoulders.

 

“So is all this pampering part of the official treatment?” Her dad teased, knowing the answer full well.

 

“Nice try,” Korra barked, “you’re not sick. And your hair’s not this nice. And I gotta do my bangs, too, before we clean up.”

 

“Worth a shot,” he smiled, making to leave, “I’ll go get freshened up.”

 

“You’re gonna cut your own bangs?” Asami said curiously, once he had left. “But there’s no mirror in here.”

 

Korra deftly retrieved the hair tie on her wrist with the same hand above which it lay, Asami’s crown cupped in her other. “Don’t need one.”

 

“Daredevil,” Asami said.

 

Korra smirked at the back of head. She tied her hair in a high ponytail to keep it out of her way. “Did I tell you I cut my own hair?”

 

“Well,” Asami answered, “this is only like the fifth time.”

 

The cheek of her. “Actually, Mom did have to fix the back for me,” Korra admitted. She brushed Asami’s shoulders off. “Alright. All done!”

 

“Thanks. Are you sure I can’t help you with yours?”

 

Korra knew what Asami was doing, trying to needle out the concession that, yes, it would make things a lot easier if she just did it for her. She wondered whether to give in sooner or later.

  
  
  
  



	4. Cozy Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory Snowed In Episode, featuring UST makeover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [SORRY, here's this one again - i accidentally deleted it instead of a draft chapter that was after)
> 
> taking place around chapter 9 (and not very serious)

“Hey.” Korra held the edge of the curtain and waited for Asami’s attention, trying to press the excitement out of her voice.

 

It must have crept through, though: when Asami’s head turned, her eyes weren’t impatient-expectant, like they usually were if you interrupted her in the thick of work, but sparkly-expectant, in a way Korra had long learnt to cherish. Her mouth was even set in what Korra would term a pre-smile.

 

“Is it snowing?” Asami said eagerly.

 

Korra drooped. “You’re not supposed to _guess_.” She pulled the curtain aside roughly to deliver the non-surprise.

 

“Sorry,” Asami said, not very apologetically. Her eyes smiled and she steepled her fingers. “Are you gonna take Naga out?”

 

Korra looked back through the window for a second and considered. “Nah. She may deserve it, but I sure as hell don’t.” She cast a dark look at her laptop on the coffee table, and the fifteen or so untouched tabs of reading open on it.

 

She lived to regret her decision, though she wished she wasn’t living. On the second night from that one, the snow was almost twice the height of the first step up to their front door. She could see it perfectly in the reflection of the streetlamp on the long blanket of white that covered the sidewalk. But Korra was _chafing_.

 

The only time she had ever gone longer than a day indoors was during her recovery. She glared at the top of the drift for barely a second, slamming the door shut again nearly as soon as the freezing air hit her face.

 

“God, I’m dying.”

 

Asami didn’t appear to care. She didn’t even appear to have moved from her position on the sofa since the snow first began to fall. It had intensified into a blizzard fairly quickly, and the faster it fell the faster Asami typed; and the sound of her keyboard was doing its own part in driving Korra insane. Naga was napping again, bored into sleep without her regular walks.

 

“Asamiii,” Korra whined. She _never_ whined at _Asami_. Some of Korra’s peevishness finally came around and directed itself at her own attitude. She tried to unpout her mouth before Asami actually looked at her.

 

“Just a sec, butterfly,” Asami said absently, tapping away.

 

Her train of thought hitched. Was… was that meant to placate her? It took Korra the second that Asami had just promised to recall that that was the nickname she had taken to calling her last year, in those moments when Korra felt particularly restless at her immobility (which had been… often, after her injury). For the record, Asami liked butterflies - it was Korra that thought they moved like they were a little wired, at the very least; but her subversive opinion had stuck, and so forth… Anyway, _butterfly_ was not placating her right now, even if it suddenly felt like there was one or ten in her stomach.

 

Her pout was still in place when Asami turned around. Korra realised she was about to accost her with the same useless complaint about the storm that she had made periodically for the last two days. She one-eightied her tack.

 

“Progress?” She asked sweetly. Asami was busy with her thesis as usual, and Korra wasn’t uninterested.

 

If Asami was surprised at her revolution in her tone she didn’t show it. “Oh, well, I’ve got five thousand more since last week.” She leaned back, stretching, and gave Korra a tired, wry smile. The thick shawl draped around her shoulders slid off. “Wanna hear about why my design solution is better than the previous solutions?”

 

“No,” Korra admitted. She sat down beside her and picked the shawl up, shoving it half-heartedly back onto Asami’s shoulder. Korra’s own head followed it after a moment. She was bored out of her mind. Maybe she could find something more interesting in Asami’s. She looked at her screen - several different Google docs, a wall of text that could put Korra to sleep. Asami clicked onto her methodically organised desktop.

 

“I’m so hungry,” she sighed.

 

Korra rolled her eyes. “You always do this. You don’t stop to eat and when you’re done it just hits you, I don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore.” She felt Asami deflate against her. “Anyway, we ran out of pretty much everything. Don’t exactly have much to do but eat.”

 

“We have eggs, right?” Asami said, her eyes urgent as they met Korra’s.

 

“We have one.”

 

Asami sank further, so much so that her computer began to slip. She set it on the table decisively and held her hand out to Korra. “Come on, let’s go make some dinner. I’m done for the day.”

 

Korra took her unnecessarily extended hand, though she let go around about the dining table, which marked halfway from the couch to the kitchen.

 

It was cold in the kitchen. Asami chattered her teeth as she systematically went through the cupboard doors. Each flew open to not very much that they could use. Asami wasn’t one to buy anything more than what she planned to eat, and Korra wasn’t one to eat anything less than what she had bought. They collated their raw materials of one egg, a tin of soup, sliced cheese and rice. Thankfully, there were green beans and shrimp in the freezer.

 

Korra tossed most of it together into a fried rice, Asami taking the time to further slice the cheese so finely that anyone would think it was grated. Korra was pleased to find that she wasn’t the only one going a bit crazy.

 

After she had taken her first appreciative bite, Asami said, “Want to watch something?”

 

“Nah. I’ve watched more TV in the past two days than I have since I moved back,” Korra told her.

 

They ate their next few bites in silence. She felt Asami’s eyes on her as she isolated bits of shrimp in her bowl to leave for last.

 

Finally, Asami said, “Can I… give you a makeover? You’ll feel better.”

 

How brazen. Korra smiled inwardly. Asami obviously thought she’d get her while she was feeling so ugh , apparently desperate enough to surrender to even that offer.

 

“Funny thing to imply if you’re wanting to make a girl feel better,” Korra said teasingly.

 

Asami gave a minute shake of the head, but her eyes sparkled at the comment. “Okay, for me, not you. I need a comedown from all that brain work.”

 

Since _for Asami_ was the primary reason Korra ever conceded to these kind of things, she acquiesced. It might do her good to sit still for a while and simply force the restlessness out of her system.

 

After dinner, Asami sat Korra on her bed (it was cleaner - Korra had tidied out of boredom) and disappeared into her own room to retrieve all her paraphernalia. Korra crossed her legs, holding onto a foot as she waited. Her window was silled with frost on the other side of the glass, illuminated by the milky night. As she looked out of it, she absently reached to straighten her sweater and smooth her hair behind her ears. She had a sudden, more conscious urge to get a mirror and fix herself up for Asami, which was stupid, because Asami was going to take care of that anyway.

 

When Asami entered she put all her kit down and arranged herself so that she was mirroring Korra on the bed. “Put your hair up,” she requested, and Korra raised a distasteful eyebrow, because (as Asami well knew) Korra’s hair was particularly loath to stay up.

 

“Okay, okay,” Asami laughed, barely a laugh. “I’ll clip it back.” She did so, pulling it back gently on either side, and then she framed her face, fingers hovering just above Korra’s cheeks.

 

“Wait,” she said suddenly. “Nails first. Then they can dry.”

 

Korra felt mildly disappointed mildly and mildly eased when Asami’s full attention left her face. She shook it off as Asami rummaged in her smaller bag.

 

“You wanna pick a colour?” She presented a few options in her hands.

 

Korra’s smiled unfurled as she read the label on a bottle of cool white nail polish. “This one, it’s called _Blizzard_.”

 

“Of course it is,” Asami snorted. She put the rest away and got to work. The smile stayed on Korra’s lips as she watched Asami take each of her fingers one by one between her own perfectly steady ones. Her hands were very precise; they had to be, but they were also exceedingly gentle.

 

“Which one are _you_ wearing?” Korra mumbled, muffled by the waiting hand that she had rested her chin in.

 

“This is…” Asami said, eyes rolling up as tried to remember the name of the shade, “ _Do You Lilac It?_ ” She enunciated carefully.

 

“I do,” Korra giggled. With barely a second’s hindsight she darkened at her own cutesy voice. Did she really just say that so _daintily?_ Yuck. Anyway.

 

Asami finished, and smiling, she took each of Korra’s hands and blew along the fingertips for emphasis. She could always get away with being a little sickly.

 

Asami didn’t have anything in Korra’s skin tone that needed to be in it, but Korra directed her to a tube of tinted moisturiser in her drawer. It wasn’t too much of a snag in the plan, according to Asami.

 

“Your skin’s flawless,” she said, dotting Korra with the pleasantly scented moisturiser. Her strokes were soft, but they had body and were deliberate. She seemed to know exactly where and how to rub for the most efficient blending.

 

“So are you,” Korra said, closing her eyes on Asami’s own as they examined her face. “I mean yours.” Her eyes flew open again. Asami laughed under a tightly closed mouth.

 

She held up a powder puff next. “Alright, close your eyes.”

 

Korra wished she could have closed her nose, too. It tickled, she thought she might sneeze, but it was over in a dash. This time Asami did take her face in her hands properly. At the touch Korra’s impending sneeze fled far away. A thumb rested on her cheek. Asami’s eyes softened as they took her in.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Korra must have imagined Asami’s voice jumping an octave.

 

“Huh?” She said.

 

Asami released her face and returned to her makeup bag. When she looked up again, eyeshadow palette in hand, her countenance was playful once more. ”Like, gimme a theme, a look. Do you want…” She lifted a finger to her mouth as she deliberated, setting her eyes on Korra’s creamy sweater. “…You want, like, delicious, rich, warm-for-the-winter sexy?” They both laughed aloud. “Or we can match these -” She took Korra’s hand. “Icy, dazzling, snow princess sexy?” She raised an eyebrow.

 

Korra giggled again, despite herself. “I don’t fucking know.” She regarded Asami. “You tell me. What do you like better on me?”

 

“Oh,” Asami laughed faintly, her gaze falling into her lap immediately. Korra didn’t expect her to quieten and redden slightly like she did. “What do I know…” She murmured, and then, louder, when she quickly raised her head again, “Uh… let’s do snow princess. It’s more dramatic.”  

 

“Okay,” Korra agreed, watching her carefully. (Who was going to know better than Asami?)

 

Asami focused very intently as she applied shimmery white eyeshadow. Her other hand all but cupped Korra’s cheek for balance and with her eyes closed it was all too easy for Korra to fall into the sensation. She was almost disappointed when it was over.

 

Next Asami lined her eyes with silver, underscoring with a thin border of cool blue. That part wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, delicate as eyeliner was, but Asami was happy to keep talking through it, providing a fine distraction. Then she procured some mascara and steadied Korra’s face by the chin.

 

“Look at my - look down,” she instructed. Korra did, right between Asami’s collarbones. Asami was wearing her necklace, she noticed, as she felt the pull against her lashes. Korra’s necklace that she had fixed and basically taken partial ownership of as payment. The silver hung prettily against her creamy skin.

 

Asami framed her face again. Korra was learning to look forward to these parts.

 

She swallowed as Asami drew out a lipstick. She uncapped it and lifted it to Korra’s mouth, where she had also directed her discerning gaze.

 

“Cozy up,” she said softly.

 

Korra blinked into her eyes, lips pursing as the tip of the lipstick touched them. “What?”

 

“It’s called _Cozy Up_ ,” Asami repeated.

 

Korra was warm. The lipstick was cool and heavy on her tender skin; she resisted the urge to lick her lips. At some point both of Asami’s hands were on her mouth - one holding the lipstick, the other scoring the corner of her lip to fix it - and Korra chose this moment to shut her eyes. She listened to the faint whistle of Asami’s breath as it tickled her face. Then it was over.

 

Asami dusted her cheeks with some suitably shimmery powder instead of blush, and she was done. Her hands left her face for the final time and Korra’s head inched forward eagerly, almost imperceptibly with them.

 

“How do I look?” She smirked.

 

Asami nodded slightly, occupied with checking her handiwork.

 

“Sexy?” Korra urged playfully. She felt bare under Asami’s gaze, even with enough cover on her face to feel like the ground outside.

 

Asami returned to Korra’s wavelength and steeled her gaze. “Oh, yeah. Hot.” She reached behind Korra’s head to unclip her hair. “I mean cold?” She laughed. “You’re beautiful.” That bit didn’t sound like an answer to Korra’s specific question. “Let me sort this out.”

 

She climbed behind Korra with a comb in her hand. It took a minute to untangle her hair before she could pin it back with the silver clasps she had chosen. Korra closed her eyes and enjoyed the attention. As far as she was concerned, Asami could play with her hair every night if she wanted.

 

“We never do this anymore,” Korra said after a moment. Somewhere on her computer there was a folder documenting the results of every impromptu indulgent makeover or hair experiment Asami had heaved upon her since freshman year - but Korra couldn’t even remember the last time they had added to it.

 

“We don’t have time,” Asami said, half wistful, half matter-of-fact.

 

_We should make time,_ Korra thought. They lived together, for crying out loud. And still she kept… missing Asami.

 

“Then after all this school stuff is done, okay?” She said. “We can do cool easy breezy beach sexy.”

 

Asami laughed beautifully, right in Korra’s ear. “Alright, but I think you would be showing me the strings on that one.”


	5. Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some Mother's Day mush that was never done on time, following right on from Chapter 8

She woke with a start, and for the brief second that it took for her brain to factor in Asami’s presence, Korra wondered why she had slept with her arm in such an uncomfortable bend. Then her barely blinking eyes fell on the dark head that rested in its curve.

 

She sat up slightly and pulled the blanket back over herself. It wasn’t really large enough for the both of them when they weren’t deliberately huddling, certainly not on a January night. In sleep Asami looked marginally better, but a loose grip lay around Korra’s wrist. It meant Asami had slept later than her, and fitfully enough to seek out her hand.

 

The stab of heartache this comprehension provoked managed to wake Korra properly.

 

Where it peeked from behind the blind the sky was bluing, but far from light. She scanned around in the semi-darkness for her phone, slipping her hand gently out of Asami’s when she located it. It was 6.05. She wished she were in bed, until Asami twitched and made a sound tender for how quiet it was.

 

“Asami?” Korra whispered, bowing her head to her ear.

 

Asami woke like she had been expecting to wake. After a moment’s disorientation, she let her head fall back against Korra. Korra waited and let her settle. Then she whispered again, “Do you wanna go back to sleep? It’s early.”

 

Asami’s head rose with a tired huff. She whispered back hoarsely. “I’m just about done trying, actually.”

 

“I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep,” Korra said to no one in particular. She could feel herself nodding again. She felt ain understanding squeeze on her arm.

 

“Go to bed, Korra.”

 

 _No,_ Korra said. To herself. The least she could do was be here. She returned to the thought that she had fallen asleep on - that churned the vague discomfort of grogginess into something like nausea. Would Asami have sat alone all night if Korra wasn’t here? What had she done last summer on worse nights?

 

Asami didn’t push the issue, which meant she really was exhausted. That more than anything rooted Korra to the spot - Asami was exhausted and wide awake, judging by the way her breath came irresolute and deliberate.

 

Korra swallowed the sticky feeling in her mouth before speaking. “D’you want something to eat?” Asami shook her head and Korra’s skin transmitted the answer. She waited again. “Tea?”

 

She agreed to the tea. Korra extracted herself to the kitchen, stretching and cracking various bits of her body as she prepared it. She hesitated before pulling a whole teapot out with the cups. If Asami wasn’t going to eat, she could at least drink her fill. Feeling her own hunger gnaw, Korra snatched a banana from the sideboard as she left.

 

She had fallen asleep with a hundred thoughts swirling in her head, none very uplifting, all concerning Asami. Korra handed Asami a cup and sat on the loveseat next to the couch, for a minor change in scenery, using the coffee table as a footrest. (Not that she wouldn’t run back if Asami wanted another cuddle, she thought, and inexplicably chided herself for it.) When they had settled, Asami spoke as if they had never stopped talking, and Korra supposed _her_ thoughts hadn’t stopped swirling at all. She was curious and glad - Asami always told her to _get it out,_ but she could stand to follow her own advice.

 

Seeing her try to, now, made Korra… hopeful. She had wanted to show Asami she could listen, and she was grateful she appeared to believe her.

 

“I think dad saw a lot of my mom in me,” Asami said, as she drew a finger around the rim of her cup. It remained unspoken and well understood what kind of pressure that put on her. _You know, my dad loves me,_ she had told Korra once, even before everything had fallen apart. _But I wonder if he knows me sometimes._ “It kinda makes me wonder, you know… what I get from her,” she finished.

 

Korra puzzled that one over as she took a sip. “Your looks, obviously.” Asami scoffed and poked Korra’s foot with hers. “Probably lots of other nice qualities.”

 

Asami looked amused at Korra’s (inevitably) blind assessment. “Well, I appreciate the stab in the dark, Korra,” she laughed.

 

Korra remained sober, though she smiled. The keen ache she had felt for Asami came back panging and she blurted without hesitating, “I bet she would adore you now.” It was what she wouldn’t say last night; had thought a guileless, if not plain thoughtless, thing to say. But Korra couldn’t not say things that were true, whether they were hers to say or not.

 

Asami smiled gratefully, and there was some cheek in it. _Are you a clairvoyant now?_ She seemed to say.

 

Korra shook her head, if only to get the sleep out. “Not that that changes… I just mean - heck, if you were _my_ kid…” The thought trailed off in a yawn.

 

Asami laughed genuinely loud for the first time in a truly dreary night. It was a real laugh, not a wretched one, or a wry one, or even an appreciative one. Her drawn eyes gleamed with kindness. There were smudges of makeup around them, Korra noticed, and she reached into the rucksack she had left at the foot of the couch yesterday to retrieve some wet wipes. She felt another low laugh rise in her throat as Asami said, placing a not so subtle hand over chest, “Oh, well, I would probably have a lot of _other_ nice qualities...”

 

Korra bit the laugh away and shook her head in disapproval. “Or I’d screw you up for being so impertinent!” She gestured to Asami’s face and handed her the wipe. Asami’s ponytail was unkempt, and Korra made a snap decision to comb it out for her once she had finished with the tea.

 

Asami tilted her head, considering her. “Probably not, you’d definitely be a fun mom.” She turned her attention to cleaning her face.

 

“Yeah,” Korra mused, taking a moment to imagine it out so she was sure, “I think I’d be more disappointed if my kids _weren’t_ a little sassy.” She raised her chin. “You know?”

 

“How many do you think you could handle?” Asami said, making a challenge of the query. “Personally, the thought of a mini Korra is making _me_ want to roll over…”

 

Korra rolled her eyes and barked, “Drink your tea!” But she was thrilled to have made Asami feel so light already. That was supposed to be her mission for the day.

 

“I’m kidding,” Asami continued. She clucked her tongue. “Aw, Korra, you’d be a great mom.”

 

That made Korra smile, as her mind revved. It wasn’t a question she was resistant to, even if she had neglected to give it much thought. Honestly, children were nowhere near as insufferable as people made out; and she took some pride in how she understood them. How she was always told she was great with them. She loved the kids she met and they loved her, so it stood to reason that she might have some one day. In fact, it was quite a _cozy_ question to ponder.

 

She grimaced.“I hope I can afford it, but… Two is good.”

 

“Two?”

 

“Mhm, yeah.” She smiled, meeting Asami’s eyes. She knew she understood her. “I think I could have used a sibling - least I’d have _liked_ one.” But with parents like hers she’d had a terrific childhood as an only child, despite whatever curious brand of loneliness the fact had sometimes engendered. But Korra could only imagine how Asami might have felt - not great, from what she had deigned to divulge.

 

Asami was nodding in appreciation. “Me, too. So much.” Her brow furrowed as she gave a regretful sigh. “I kinda wonder about that, too…”

 

“I used to want a brother,” Korra told her. “And then after middle school I wanted a sister, ‘cause I didn’t really have girlfriends - just like to show me the ropes and stuff. Talk to about… about stuff that I couldn’t talk to my mom about?” She laughed and Asami scrunched her nose, too. Korra regarded her. “Actually, you know, after we -”

 

Asami took her point before she had made it, and duly, she snorted. “Wait, so do you wanna be my mom, or my sister or…?”

 

Korra glared. But she didn’t really mind this talk, funny as it was. She had drifted off on the thought that she wanted to be like family to Asami, after all. She straightened, downing the last of her tea decisively. “Anyway, I think it would be good for my kid to have a sibling. So two kids - we’ll leave the point five. What about you?” The thought of Asami doting on some munchkin made Korra prickle. Pleasantly, like when she doted on Naga. 

 

Asami gave a dismissive wave. “Oh…” Her mouth set a little ruefully. “I don’t really think that stuff's for me…” Korra would have let the point slide if Asami didn’t look so unsure about it.

 

“Why? Just not your thing?” She was loath to probe. It took longer than it should have, given the backdrop of this early morning conversation, to see why someone of Asami’s parentage might have some misgivings about parent _hood._

 

“I,” Asami began, before abandoning the thought. “It’s not like I really had the best family life.” She was being plainer than Korra had expected, following the model of last night. If she was going to be brutally honest, Korra would have to harden herself to hear it. Asami looked her in the eyes with her mouth pursed, and Korra read her fear before she voiced it. “I don’t know, I just think I might mess up.”

 

Korra’s heart broke, not for the first time. If that wasn’t the stupidest, painfulest thing she’d ever heard. _Bad reason,_ she wanted to say, but that seemed like a bad idea. She was going to be a different flavour of blunt.

 

“Asami. _You_ would be an amazing mom.” She nodded vigorously, as Asami seemed to open a little. “You know why? ‘Cause you are so _considerate_.” _You’re full of love_ , she thought. Korra was full of her love, so she could take it from her. Asami absorbed, though her expression didn’t change. Korra stared, almost combative, like her eyes could bore the point into Asami. “You are. You’re the most thoughtful person I know. I mean, the fact that you’re even thinking of what possible ways you might let your hypothetical kids down…”

 

Asami huffed, a little red. She cracked a smile, in the direction of her hands.

 

“Do you believe me?” Korra urged. Asami answered with something she couldn’t have predicted.

 

“I wish I always had you.”

 

Her _I need you_ tumbled back into Korra’s head. Korra wasn’t going to cry again, not when Asami hadn’t set the precedent. “Good,” she replied a little awkwardly, and then sturdier. “I’m not going anywhere.” Asami lifted her head, clutching the wipe in her hand tight. “Now.” Korra grinned slowly. “Let me be a good mother and do your hair.”

  
  



	6. Appraising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i see this taking place sometime after Chapter 10. prompt fill for In2Deep for the line 'it looks good on you' :D

Asami let slip the sweater in her hand. A short puff of breath followed. She scrutinised the floor length mirror again, turned for the side all the way to the back - forty five, ninety, one-eighty degrees. Another sigh of resignation, and just a hint of suffocation. It was stuffy in this fitting room.

 

She tilted her head at her wretched reflection, lifting a hand to feather the thin sliver of a collar that was giving her a truly disproportionate amount of trouble. Hardly a strip of fabric on either side of the neck - why was it even here? She channeled her frustration into a hard press of the fabric between the pads of her fingers, and sighed inwardly this time, but very gravely. It wasn’t even that it was ugly: it just… wasn’t her. Asami liked wider collars. She wouldn’t even consider this one _adequate_. Problem was, the blouse it was stitched to was simply made for her. It hugged her almost too perfectly, and she wasn't even one for huggy clothing.

 

She shook her head. Right. Ten minutes was long enough to spend staring at herself in pity over a single item of clothing that she could probably, in all honesty, do without. Asami fished her phone out of her bag where it hung on the hook. She was putting this out of her irresolute hands, for _real._   She couldn't afford to languish in indecision, so the decision wasn't going to be hers.

 

The light in here wasn’t bad. She took a few careful shots, focused to showcase the top to the best of her ability. Then she found Korra's name where it had made home at the top of her messages and sent them.

 

_Not sure about the collar but… y/n?_

 

Then she clasped the phone to her belly and waited. And waited.

 

She hoped Korra liked it.

 

Wait, _no._ She hoped Korra provided her with an honest assessment.

 

That required her to scrutinise a pic or two of Asami's body -

 

Waiting was an awful game, because with each passing second the uncertainties began to stack. Asami shook her head. She had done this before. They did this all the time! (Not in a good while, sure, but…) Korra had a particular knack for telling it like it was - and she could do it without her own proclivities of taste clouding her judgment, so it made complete sense to delegate this to her. Still…

 

Were _two_ photos necessary? She should have just sent the one. You could hardly even see the collar from the second angle, and really, it was a little… _slinky._

 

No. She wasn’t going there. It was exactly what it needed to be to show off the garment, and nothing else. Asami tapped the hard case on her phone impatiently, forcing away the desire to flip the photo up again and just make sure, though what of she couldn't quite square _._

 

She could have at least sent the message first. For context. To lay out the agenda nice and clear with no room for even the momentary blip of confusion, let alone misinterpretation. Why didn’t she think? Now there would be at least a split second where Korra absorbed multiple, _very_ … conspicuous images of herself with no - explanation… She was helpless to stop the mental image, or the rush of blood to her face. Asami closed her eyes; she couldn’t quite look at what Korra was probably looking at right now.

 

When she did, it occurred to her in a sudden spike of calm through her chest how irrational she was being. There was nothing here to be misconstrued, and Korra certainly wasn’t one to go misconstruing anything as _benign_ as this. If the thought of the whole venture or its impulsivity was making Asami blush… well, that was entirely Asami’s problem.

 

She almost jumped when her phone vibrated. Then the familiar twinkle of pleasure Korra’s text tone produced came almost preemptively, like it had conditioned her. She held her phone up and peeked, groaning inwardly when the especially kinda sorta sexy bottom half of an image accosted her eyeballs.

 

But Korra’s reply elicited a sigh of satisfaction. (Her brain tried to diminish the relief.)

 

_um yes!!_

 

Asami smiled far too wide for someone standing alone in a fitting room. Felt a bit stupid doing it, too, and pursed her mouth again. This was still a serious endeavour that had already cost her a lot of precious time. She had to ensure that Korra was genuine. She could be a real flatterer, especially over a medium that allowed her to not adorably bungle her words.

 

_:)_

_Sure it’s ~me though?_

 

She didn’t have to wait long this time.

 

_dudeee, everything’s you!_

 

There she went again. Asami didn’t let her heartbeat run her off task. This was not an earnest response, or at least not a focused on. She was about ask her to be specific when two more texts whoosed in in quick succesion.

 

_fine_

_it looks good on you and you should get it_

 

Finally.

 

Asami smiled as she unbuttoned the blouse and gathered her things together. Progress. The weight dissolved off her shoulders, resettling lighter, somewhere in her chest.


	7. Stumbling to Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami deals with her father's death.

When she looked in the bedroom mirror, Asami saw a smart, striking figure that she couldn’t remember primping herself into in the days that blurred before her now like a fever dream. Every evening the girl she had forgotten she was supposed to be looked back at her; and the realisation knocked gently back into her as if from a touch at the small of her back, delicate yet conspicuous; and she remembered to inhabit herself again. She remembered that the world turned, and she with it, even if her father was gone.

 

She raised a hand to her eyes, tight and drawn; made gaunt by the circles that framed them much better than her eyeshadow did, didn’t even come away when she wiped.

 

 _Hiroshi Sato dead,_ she traced, and pronounced aloud with the objectivity of someone reading the phone book. (She told herself it was a choice - that it helped to think that way, when the stubborn, disbelieving numb that flattened her voice could hardly have been helped.) _August 1st,_ she even read the date with more feeling.

 

Heart failure. She wondered if he would consider it a release, or yet another injustice. She found that she herself felt the latter whilst wishing she felt the former. Felt sick for wishing that. And not knowing what to feel made her feel exactly one thing: guilt.  

 

She wished someone else could have taken the call. The brick in her chest - like nausea weighted down by pure force, by a dead weight - had dropped when she saw there _was_ nobody else, and only it bore harder and harder in the days that followed. It forced her into a smaller shape in this vast, lonely world. Part of the reason it was hard to recognise herself.

 

She remembered him in the kind bath of late morning light, in one of the only places in their house that had allowed for these slabs of sunlight to fall in in the first place. “You’re going to be the picture of your mother,” he said, wistful in a way that she was surprised he didn’t try to suppress; after she had tugged her pleated hem down to a place it wouldn’t stay without support, like the final corner on the fitted coverings pulled over everything in his garage. She cupped her hands over her knobbly knees. Asami had aired over breakfast, with perfectly practised nonchalance, that she thought she might kinda need some… _older_ clothes. She would have given a lot to actually _be_ older, less awkward; without her legs overgrown in a way that made it feel like she was waiting for her personality to catch up - young and silly, even when she was suddenly taller than all of the boys.

 

She had just about made a comfortable pace when he dragged her back. _Hiroshi Sato exposed_ \- to _her_ , most painfully of all - and that was worse in ways than _dead._ It was damning, and not just for him, not just publicly. Was she really just a fool, all this time? The shame and betrayal shrunk her.

 

Now, Asami spent the night of _this_ news on the phone with officials, wishing they were friends. Friends she texted, even Korra - fearing how much she could hold together if she actually heard a familiar voice.

 

August 2nd, just. Two missed calls and another following a short gap: Tenzin, the man so well-meaning she was happy to soak up his platitudes even though they were just that. She clutched her phone in her hand and breathed in the dawn. Her mind whirred through to-do lists and to-call numbers that barely stifled the desperation and pain.

 

Later, Asami’s thought screeched to a halt in the landing, suddenly faced with the boyfriend of the woman from the next apartment. She hadn’t been expecting anyone, and her dumbfounded expression was more evidence of that than her threadbare state. He fashioned a polite smile out of his own awkward expression, handed her some mail for which she thanked him, and let her by gracefully. Why was the first person she had seen since her father’s death a stranger?

 

After that Asami was quite careful to dress like someone whose emotional security you wouldn’t question, but at home it was a different story. She misplaced her keys, her phone, misdirected her anguish - onto the design she had had up on her computer for days, until she slammed it away; onto Korra, who she vowed never to call again. Minutes and minutes passed whilst she watched water flow from the faucet over her clasped fists, slip through her fingers - and then found herself wondering where the time went, when the alarm reminding her to eat went off.

 

She scrolled down as far as she had to to find his name in the byline in her inbox, staring at it with her hands steepled and jaw tight. A frozen relic, the only equivalent she had of the materials belongings you might stumble on that belied (gut-wrenchingly) a dead person’s sudden non-permanence - until she finally drove out to the house.  

 

The house was cold and hard, too. Even the floorboards didn’t creak - and as she walked through stark-smelling halls, wide and light in a way that somehow stubbornly resisted freedom, she realised at last that any softness she remembered had always been of her own making.

 

“You make this place worth living in, Asami,” her father had sighed, scooping her in with an arm, like he was just realising it. A long day at work, which didn’t replenish him like it used to, and he had finally learnt to come home.

 

“Dad,” she sighed, touched. She hoped being his hope would always stay this easy - had a strange portentous pang that it wouldn't. That it was a charge too heavy for one girl to bear.

 

Asami sat on the hardwood floor amidst piles of stuff she had suspended imaginary _garbage, charity, auction, eBay_ labels over, thinking about how she had kept the colours warm, bed soft, air sweet with her youthful, earnest imagination. Meanwhile, her father provided an inconstant yet indulgent attention, and the creature comforts that kept any spectre of agitation that might encroach on them at bay. She was just happy enough to not consider otherwise. A charmed life, unless you looked inside either of their hearts and poked around.

 

In her teenage years, she had never let any vague despondency, where she assumed her mother’s presence was supposed to be, get to her. It had never occurred that her father’s love should not compensate for her father’s unavailability, as long she was the keeper of his hope - they were all they had, after all. Then she turned out not to be enough anyway.

 

This house could go, Asami thought with a bitterness she resented feeling.

 

She turned to her tentative _keep_ pile, which she wanted smaller. Still there were very few things here that she wanted more than her father back, but her trawl experienced a hiccup when she found some pictures she had never seen, and a stack of letters exchanged between her parents. She pored over the photos longer than she should have, crying for the first time since the night of. The letters she left untouched - they looked ghostly now, like they should be in the ground with them.

 

 _August 7th._ An urn, actually, like her mother’s, and that way she didn’t have to find anyone to carry a casket.

 

Bolin didn’t let go of her for the duration of the service. Mako was on her right side, and she wished he would be normal enough to hold her other hand. Then she thought about the morning and chastised herself for wishing he were anything but his stammering, stoic self. A flood of warmth when she turned to a certain few faces, trying hard not to imagine how much worse it would be if it was any of them, how many more they would leave in a state like hers -

 

How much simpler it could be if it was her.

 

\- A flash of darkness, nipped fast and locked somewhere deeper than her own mind, where it should be, by a timely squeeze of her hand.

 

It was Mako that had coaxed a real conversation out of her in the morning, after days. She hadn’t realised how much she needed the release. They slumped against the boot of her car, ready about an hour too early for the funeral. The talk was sparse but honest - a sympathetic consultation to acknowledge her grief and contextualise it, rather than a remedy. The pensive lean he let her make into his shoulder was long and equally appreciated.

 

Mako handed her a packed bag once they got in the car after Bolin.

 

“Oh, Grandma made you dinner.”

 

She bit back her tears.

 

Funnily enough, when she had dressed that morning, she found she felt more herself in her clothes than she had in a week. Like the true Asami was emerging and filling them again. She realised she was antsy now - to close this chapter, to shed her father off for good today (she didn’t let let herself wonder if it would be that simple.) She made herself inhabit her body, with deep breaths, tight waist and cuffs to hold it all in place. If only someone could help it along and touch the small of her back. She was too slowed with grief to catch her thoughts before they drifted to Korra.

 

The funeral was nothing longer or larger than it had to be. Asami compared it to her choppy recollection of her mother’s wake, and once the frills were stripped away, she found that the two weren’t that different - she didn’t feel that different. And if that meant she had lost him with her in some way, all the way back when, then, well... She had already known that, hadn’t she?

 

The same vulnerability, so profound it was almost serene, no longer panicked, bookending sixteen years.

 

The difference was, now all her grief was in her own hands. The only weird solace.

 

Korra had emailed her another platitude, the cherry on top of her strange day. She was no longer in the mood for accepting those, but it stared at her from the screen like an alien, bittersweet proof that anything was possible.

 

So she quelled her grief - cried it out, drank it out. More would accumulate, oil and soot clogging the paths to and from her heart, but she could think about it later. Now, anything was possible.

 

When she got to the offices she signed away everything of her father’s, tainted or not. At least this was a goodbye she couldn’t have waited for.

 

When the door closed on her father’s lawyer’s face she felt an almost juvenile relief that she might never have to see the man again. He had always looked to her as if for an explanation, like _he_ wasn’t the one cut from the same cloth as her father; except slimier, spoilt at the core and not simply bruised, old as immigrant money could be. Well, goodbye.

 

She listed the house. It went immediately to one of the real estate vultures that had been waiting with claws out since her father’s indictment. Goodbye.

 

Her parents’ gravestones were purely ornamental, and ornamental they were: elegant, traditional dark stone. She put her chin in her hand and traced the lettering, the breeze billowing her loose skirt, the sensation pleasant against the thick, cloudy heat. _Goodbye,_ she thought, when she reached the blackletter _O_  of _Hiroshi Sato_. For now. Until, hopefully, she found a way not simply to make sense of his departure, but make peace with where they’d left things. She drove from the cemetery to the beach, hopping rocks, mind rifling through cosy townhouse neighbourhoods.


	8. Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place between chapters 11 and 12

_home in about 20? but i do have some stuff at work that probably needs cleaning up x_

 

Korra scratched and flicked a little speckle off the screen as she stared at the text. Trust Asami to be exceptionally thoughtful and provide her with this gently disguised question.

 

Korra knew that Asami didn’t want to infringe on her quality time with her mother - especially not when, between both their schedules, all she could really afford Korra was the late evenings of her four-day trip to New York. Since Korra was inclined to be attached to her hip whenever she was home, Asami liked to make extra sure that she wouldn’t be interrupting any sorely-missed mother-daughter bonding (never mind that it was Asami’s home before anyone else’s.)

 

Korra appreciated the gesture, though. Asami was right - she had missed her mom a lot since moving. And with them both in she wouldn’t know whose hip to be attached to. Korra could admit that much.

 

“Something interesting?” Senna popped up behind her head.

 

Korra whooshed away a thumbs up in reply and put her phone down. “No.”

 

“Well, I know I said I was too full for dessert,” her mother continued with a flourish as she sat down on the couch, apparently unheeding, “but since we’re together…” She shrugged without a trace of regret and handed Korra a plate of sugar pie identical to the one she set on the coffee table before her.

 

“Oh, save the excuses, Mom.” Korra sat up eagerly on the couch to receive her plate.

 

She savoured the first bite, its silky, sweet texture making her mouth water. “Mm,” she said eventually, guiding a stray crumb of pastry into her mouth, “so you were saying that you’re not gonna go to Europe this summer? Why?” She picked up off their pre-dessert conversation. Korra had been surprised to learn of the change in her parents’ vacation plans; the ‘proper’ getaway they had been planning since their anniversary last year.

 

“Well,” her mom said, literally chewing it over, “I didn’t say we won’t go. But your dad and I were just thinking… You’ve come so far this year, and when you come back home, after graduation, everything… It’s a pretty big deal. Would be nice for us to be together. And two months is fanciful, isn’t it? Backpacking’s a bit much. We’re not kids.”

 

“Oh.” Korra was unexpecting, touched, and resistant all at once. She helped herself to another spoonful as she deliberated. Hm. Her parents may not have been kids, but they sure were backpackers. “Well, I’m not a kid either, you know,” she said slowly, trying to counter an affectionate smile.

 

Her mother huffed. “I know that, honey, I know. And you’re doing great. But this last year hasn’t been easy on you. We just want to be there if you need us, if you wanna rest easy for a while, and not just disappear on you after graduation.”

 

“You should go,” Korra said decisively, firm in her judgment now. “I do miss you both, but you’ve been dying to travel - as soon as I flew the nest, you used to say… And I’m totally fine, and if I wasn’t - I’m a big girl,” she reiterated, and nodded, reassuring. “I’ll keep busy, too. I’ve got my placement, and there’s so much I’ve still gotta get done, graduation or no, and Asami…”

 

Her mother lightened gradually as she spoke, though Korra could tell she tried not to betray it on her face. Korra sighed.

 

_And Asami… ?_

 

“I wanna stay here in New York, actually. I guess we might travel around, I dunno. But I’m sure it’d be fine. It’s just summer.”

 

She could practically hear the question her mother didn’t voice, so much so that she had to swallow the reply in her throat. And then she let it out anyway. “We haven’t talked about after,” Korra said, looking at her plate. “But it depends on so much I don’t know yet, anyway. Whether I get a job out of this internship…” That was another high hope she was itching to realise.

 

Korra’s mom, true to form, detected and smoothed away her faint embarrassment. “It’ll come together when it’s supposed to,” she said placatingly. “But you’ve talked about this?”

 

“Well…” Korra bit her tongue, wondering how to answer without revealing any feelings - hunches, ideas - she hadn’t even unraveled herself, and plans she definitely hadn’t made. “Asami doesn’t have plans, so she won’t say no. And like you said, after everything… I wanna stay with her, too. You know?”

 

She immediately regretted that invitation to speculate. But, of course, her mother did ‘know.’ At least she knew the part Korra was happy for her to know.

 

“I understand, Korra. Someone should be there for her, too. I don’t know how I didn’t think of that,” she said, almost chiding herself, like she had overlooked something elementary. “She needs you,” she added knowingly, having recovered from it as if it had never even occurred.

 

It was really, stupid embarrassing how much those words thrilled Korra.

 

“I am glad the  _both_  of you are doing so great,” her mom said with some finality. But she turned wistful; she was still elaborating the amendment of her oversight in her head. “Poor girl… You really can’t leave her alone when that anniversary comes around…”

 

“Yeah,” Korra croaked, shoving the remainder of her pie in her mouth quite impulsively, though she promptly began to speak with her mouth full. “I mean, we’re both so busy lately, so it’d be nice to enjoy the city…”

 

“Oh, I see,” Senna clucked teasingly, the shift in tone signalling the welcome end of this discussion. She beckoned for Korra to throw her a cushion and continued in exasperation. “You miss the girl you  _live_ with more than your own parents. I see how it is!”

 

Korra shook her head and laughed. “Stop guilt-tripping!” She threw the cushion by her arm at her mother. “See, Asami would never do that to me.”

 

“And yet, Korra, you  _make_ her wash your dishes every day!”

 

“Well, she  _makes_ me take out the trash!”

 

Neither of those things were true, obviously: Korra took it upon herself to take the trash out because it grossed Asami out more; and Asami took it upon herself to wash up since Korra was typically the one cooking. And it worked perfectly well, even if it had given her mom ample opportunity to “call her out” when she took over dinner duties from Korra and Asami remained on dishes.

 

Senna rolled her eyes, before they narrowed in question suddenly. “Speaking of, where is she?” Her eyes fell on the clock, which read 9.55.

 

“You know us young folk have no circadian rhythms,” Korra reminded her, careful to be extra annoying. She had already told her mom that Asami tended to work late, but she was right, this was  _late._

 

And this didn’t feel right, this banter, without Asami here. She picked up her phone.

 

_Mom’s making fun of me :( are u on your way?_

 


	9. A Commemoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever said established relationship was boring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-main fic. happy late korrasami anniversary c:

23.52.

 

Korra blinked and rubbed her eyes. She closed her computer and slid it across the table, depositing her phone in its place and thumbing through the calendar with sleepy swipes. She never really made use of this function on her phone, hardly even opened it. Today was the rare exception: there was something she had wanted to check.

 

She had moved in on a Friday last year, if she recalled right - the corresponding Friday to this one today, she supposed, which she had spent failing to sleep off the jet lag from her latest work trip. That made tomorrow (Saturday) a year to the day if she had calculated right - if she had guessed right that they weren’t in a leap year.

 

Korra patted herself on the back for figuring all this out. For remembering in the first place. Her plan was to spring that on Asami when she got home; rouse some indulgent sentimentality in order to trigger the attention that Korra desired from her. Asami had come home for fifteen minutes tops the after lunch, just after Korra arrived, to pick some papers up and tell her she’d be working late,  _sorry, baby._  She had hugged Korra not nearly long or enthusiastically enough. Now Korra was pining, and a little peevishly. She blamed her knack for envisioning particularly fanciful reunions. It was just what separation did to her.

 

Korra yawned widely. Then she tapped her foot and bowed forward, letting her forehead press against the cool surface of the table. She wondered whether she should just go to bed and see her tomorrow, but the extra few hours would just nurture another probably inevitably unfulfilled fantasy of waking up with Asami fawning over her.

 

Her hair was still wet from her shower. She would give it until it dried. That was a sensible basis. She looked at the phone. 23.56. No way it had been four minutes.

 

The longest four minutes. Korra left her head against the table, letting her eyes fall close; turning her face so it cooled her cheek and temple. Did Asami not miss her? It wasn’t like her to flake on Korra when she hadn’t seen her for nearly a week. Was she - were they just getting… too comfortable? Roommate syndrome, wasn’t that what it was called? She darkened immediately, because, shit, they were roommates. They had separate bedrooms, for crying out loud.

 

No. This train of thought was stupid enough that even in her sleep-addled state Korra retained just enough perspective to discard it as soon as it had got on its way. She was just tired, and alone, and starving; and generally too reliant on Asami’s typically very reliable affection not to miss it today. And Naga was asleep. And she was jet-lagged.

 

00.00, October 16th.

 

She thought she heard a car door slam. She  _did_ hear the key in the lock, with a flare of anticipation in her chest, but her head was too heavy to be lifted. Asami could come and do that, if she really loved her. The door opened and shut.

 

“Korra?” The sound of Asami’s shoes being pulled off, the zip of her bag. “You’re up…” Korra softened with every next word of her voice. She grunted in acknowledgement. She smelled Asami before she saw her, and felt her before that, too - a cool hand coming to cup the back of her head, which lifted at the touch. “I don’t know whether to be happy or not that you’re up…” Asami said, a fond smile on her lips when Korra blinked up at her.

 

She groaned, savouring the touch of Asami’s hand. “Why?”

 

“Aren’t you tired?” Asami said, setting her phone and a boba tea cup down onto table from her other hand. She wrapped her arms around Korra’s shoulders, hooking one under her upper arm. She pressed her face into the side of hers. “Hm?”

 

Fucking  _duh_. Korra opted not to answer. Asami, oblivious, smooshed her face anew into Korra. Her arms squeezed harder still. Korra could feel exactly which tone of voice was coming on. She hummed with some satisfaction, at last.

 

“ _Korra_... I’m so happy you’re back.”

 

“Good,” Korra said, feeling unruly. Asami laughed a single, content giggle against her, making Korra’s skin spark.

 

When she next opened her eyes, they fell on the plastic cup on the table. Korra’s brow wrinkled after a moment. “Why are you caffeinating at midnight?”

 

Asami appeared not to have heard her, deep in a nuzzle in Korra’s hair. She shifted, pausing to adjust the bracelet on her wrist so it didn’t dig into Korra where she held her. Never mind. Korra let her mind and weight fall back into Asami. The warm, distracted thought that she could fall asleep like this crossed her.

 

“You smell good, you hair’s still kinda wet,” Asami said softly, like she was checking a list off. Korra knew it was simply her strange way of taking her in fully at this late hour. Asami yawned and took a few seconds to pick some damp strands of hair and tuck them back before, burrowing against her again. “Mm, Korra.” She pressed what began a kiss and ended a smile against her temple. “Happy moving in anniversary, by the way.”

 

The bitch. How did she remember that? There went Korra’s  _plot_. She decided on a tempered response to this implicit invitation to get sappy (and she knew it was that, because she’d had the same thought.) She wasn’t going to give Asami that tonight; tit for tat.

 

Still, she had  _remembered_. Though maybe Korra shouldn’t have been too surprised, since she remembered, too. (Just.)

 

“Thanks,” she said, biting her cheek. Polite, perfunctory. Asami couldn’t know that she was impressed. It did impress her, though, in the same weird soft way that Asami's discretion to move any potentially uncomfortable jewelry before cuddling her impressed her. She let the moment stretch just long enough that it would feel a bit anticlimactic to Asami. Then she turned and kissed her on the mouth anyway.

 

Korra wanted to kiss her hard. But more than that, even if it was silly, she wanted Asami to be unable not to kiss her hard first. She pulled away.

 

Gentle surprise on Asami’s face at her withdrawal. Korra watched it come and go and touched her nose to hers.

 

“So, we’ve been roommates for a year,” Asami tried eventually, getting at nothing in particular.

 

 _And?_ Korra said with her eyes, enjoying her dead end. “So  _hot_ , right?” She laughed, unable to help it, making Asami snort and shake her head and shrug.

 

“Just thought you’d appreciate knowing,” Asami said, finally straightening, stretching on her feet - she scratched the bridge of her nose, moving to pocket her phone. “I’ve got some M&Ms in my bag for you.”

 

Of course she did. Korra didn’t know why all her predictable actions still made her nerves flutter. She stood up, too, but she pulled Asami’s hands back around her, back against the table. Asami stopped to pick up her cup and take a long draw through the straw, before sliding her arms around Korra, fingering the hem of her shirt.

 

Korra yawned and mumbled into her shoulder. “Why are you drinking tea again?”

 

Asami’s fingers stilled, hands under Korra’s shirt. A pause, the flat of her fingertips circling gently on her skin. A sweet, honest pause. “To stay up for you.”

 

God.

 

“If you need me to.”

 

Jesus.

 

The words fell in the pit of Korra’s stomach.

 

Herself, wordlessly, she took Asami’s cup, met her eyes and practically chugged the rest of the tea down, as far as one could chug through a straw. Asami watched her, somewhat amused.

 

Now Korra just needed her to kiss her. She leaned in, impatient enough to do everything for her but the deed itself.

 

Asami relented, taking her face in both hands. Before she even knew it, Korra’s palm was braced against the table for balance. Finally. She swallowed down a laugh and a moan, shooting all her focus into kissing her back.

 

When she drew back at last, panting, Asami looked like she could have used the rest of her drink. “My room?” She breathed.

 

“Mine -” Another kiss. “Spotless all week,” Korra said hurriedly, the laugh in her throat threatening to bubble up again.  _Roommates_ sure had its perks, when it gave you a choice of beds every night. She closed the gap between them again before Asami could ask why she was smiling.


	10. Housewarming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a slice of post-main fic life.

“...Actually I wanted something closer to the labs downstairs _eventually_ , I told you, remember, but it’s not really...”

 

Along the spotless narrow corridor, Korra followed Asami’s clacking footsteps on the granite flooring, and her (strangely) pleasantly listenable hundred words a minute. It was slowing for sure now, and the pitch lowering from her excited chirp as they neared the end of the impromptu express tour of her work.

 

She stopped short in front of a grey door as the sentence trailed. “Okay, here we are.”

 

Korra waited impatiently at her shoulder as she rummaged in her blazer pocket for her key, squeezing her upper arm with a gleeful smile. Asami glanced behind to return it before turning her attention to the lock - still unfamiliar, and it took her a few extra seconds to get the door open.

 

“After you,” Korra urged, almost pushing Asami through.

 

Asami ignored her, bearing down on the handle to swing the door open and step in front of it. She faced Korra and straightened against the open door to clear her way, nails rapping the hardwood against her flat palms. “So. _Welcome_ .” Korra peered in. Asami’s new personal office didn’t appear to be _huge,_ but it was an office, which was more than she’d had last year - or last week.

 

Korra wrenched her smile off Asami and made to enter.

 

Her first week on the job full time, and her boss had bequeathed to her a private office. Only, of course, because her new responsibilities logically warranted such a workspace for convenience and efficiency. But Korra knew better than most people that it wasn’t without reason that Asami had landed such lofty responsibilities in the first place. She supposed they had rooms to spare, looking at the impeccably spacious design of this building.

 

“Oh my God,” she trilled, scanning around eagerly. Only once she was inside did the full ambience of the room hit her. (And Asami had turned the dimmer switch for the _perfect_ ambience.) It was almost _luxurious_ , much cleaner and sleeker than she had expected (at least before she had walked through the door of this firm): the ceiling higher, the desk whiter - the monitor wider and thinner.

 

Asami clicked the door close behind her. “I _know_.” The glee churned in her voice.

 

Korra laughed and sprung into the large office chair. “ _Cushy_. And clean spin,” she commended, rolling herself to the big window opposite the desk once she had removed her jacket from her waist and placed it over Asami’s on the back of the chair. The excessive amount of glass helped create an illusion of space inside the averagely sized room, like with the rest of these offices.

 

Asami took a seat in the extra chair, before a table that doubled as a locked cabinet of some sort, Korra couldn’t really tell. Asami cleared that mystery up, after she had put her bag and phone down on it and stretched her legs. “So, I was _also_ bummed out about being so far from the kitchen, but there’s a freaking _mini fridge_ in here...” She gestured to the cabinet with the toe cap of her boot.

 

“Oh, suck it up, Asami, you got an _office_ ,” Korra teased, spinning and watching the ceiling. She braked with a scuff of her foot and flashed her a grin.

 

Of course, Asami couldn’t assure her fast enough: “I know, of course! But - you know, that _besides…_ ”

 

Korra laughed again. “Nearest coffee machine?”

 

“Second floor, outside that room with the pseudodynamic testing stuff.”

 

“Then you’re good,” Korra said. “This place is awesome.”

 

Her attention turned to all the sleek storage around the office and with Asami’s nod of approval she pulled open some of the drawers. Still mostly empty, save for a few neatly arranged files and papers. She tested the lamp, the touchscreen on the monitor; pulled the string on the Venetian blinds.

 

Asami was chuckling almost inaudibly. “You’re like a kid,” she said, stifling a yawn under her hand as she followed Korra with eyes that twinkled with humour.

 

“I’m hands-on.” She flashed her another wayward smile. Asami had laid her head against the arm of her chair, her posture slackening until the heel of her boot lay almost horizontal in the soft carpet. She continued to blink and smile back at Korra.

 

Nothing could quite quell her delight today, even though it was obvious to Korra that the first intense week of work after their vacation had taken a toll on her faculties, her alertness.

 

“It’s late,” Korra said, though it probably wasn’t that late. “Sure you don’t wanna go home?” Their plan had been to go for dinner at the new Bushwick branch of Asami’s favourite Thai place to celebrate, but she wondered if it wouldn’t be best to postpone that.

 

Asami ground the side of her face against the armrest as she deliberated, and then “Yeah, alright,” she conceded, an appreciative long blink for Korra’s sympathetic prescience. “How about like, a _strong_ nightcap, then?” She said, still unwilling to _not_ celebrate. Korra wanted to scoop her up.

 

She stuck her hand in her pant pocket to grab her phone and check the time, and pulled out the last of her post-workout Twizzlers. There was one left in the pack. “Housewarming gift,” she said, holding it out to Asami, eliciting an unimpressed snort.

 

She was out of her reach, so Korra got up from the chair at last to hand it to her.

 

Asami fell into thought as she chewed, and Korra waited and enjoyed the fresh peace of this space again. Asami’s regular breath stirred the loose wisp of hair by her shoulder, and Korra left her attention there. “Let’s just pick something up on the way home,” Asami said eventually, looking up to Korra. “What do you feel like? Thai still? Or-”

 

She paused and shifted slightly as Korra bent to kiss her.

 

“Thai, or there’s that nice pizza place around the corner from here…”

 

“I don’t mind,” Korra said, claiming her mouth again. She could smell the strawberry on her breath, and she kind of already regretted giving Asami the last of her candy. The stillness about put the sensation of Asami’s kiss in warm, direct focus. It was so quiet and private in here.

 

Korra put her weight on the side of her chair in order to hold Asami, under her blazer, though it was half to balance herself - a hand moulding Asami’s ribs, where she could just feel the edge of an underwire through her thin shirt.

 

Asami breathed into the touch as she ended the kiss, incuriously affectionate. Korra, on an instinctual whim, dipped to kiss her neck. She tightened her hands until they almost met at Asami’s back.

 

Under that touch, she felt a blip of tension; a laugh or a protestation that Asami kept in her throat - but no real response, not until she let out a quaver of somewhat exasperated pleasure and a hand came up to cup Korra’s elbow. Asami wiggled away finally.

 

“Damn, you are hands on.”

 

Korra stopped kissing. “What did I say?”

 

“We should get going,” Asami continued, patting her elbow. Korra’s lack of motion made her dissent clear.

 

She locked her hands behind Asami’s back and nosed the soft skin at the top of her neck. “Come on, like you haven’t thought about getting busy in here.”

 

When she looked up for her reaction, Asami screwed her eyes and tried to keep her mouth straight, which only confirmed what Korra had already known well enough to proclaim.

 

“I’ve been busy in here all week,” Asami said innocently. Korra pressed on her ribs and she laughed and shoved her shoulder.

 

“You know, this isn’t why they gave me a office.”  But she was animated now, fingers flitting from Korra’s shoulder to her nose to her cheek.

 

“Whatever, it’s yours now. And how long is this place gonna be this tidy?” Korra said. But she was more compliant now, too. She got up, weight back on her feet as she stretched her ankles.

 

“Oh, you thought this through,” Asami laughed. And suddenly she looked like she was thinking things through. Korra thought she saw her sink marginally back into the chair.

 

“Uh, sure,” Korra said, before smirking. “I think on my feet.”

 

Asami’s knuckles grazed her chin as she considered. “It’s a good point, actually. It’s Friday, too.”

 

Korra reached for their jackets on the back of the spinny chair, but Asami grabbed her arm. Tentatively, casually. “I could stand to be hungrier, how about you? And Naga won’t need dinner for a while.”

 

Korra could laugh.

 

“Are you really, seriously planning out what I _think_ would still count as a spontaneous encounter?”

 

That was some perspective for Asami.

 

“Shut up, of course it still counts!”

 

And it worked greatly to Korra’s benefit, because in Asami’s keenness to defend her point, she pulled her back so hard Korra practically collided into her arms. “I guess you’re persuasive,” she mumbled some kisses later, a frayed end of a thought, as she slid her annoyingly cool hands further under Korra’s shirt. Korra was too distracted to point out that she had essentially persuaded herself.


	11. Boba Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bday gift for @willoghby

“Stop that,” Korra snapped, sliding Asami’s phone from under her reaching hand. The hand clamped over nothing and Asami rolled her eyes. Korra had to bite away a smirk, but she was still past the point of platitudes this afternoon.

Two hours ago she might have placated her with a reassurance or a squeeze of the shoulders but now she was being typically Asami in one of the very few ways Korra didn’t love; pouting over her presumably clammy fist as she fidgeted from heat and anxiety on the couch. For once and at last, with graduation behind them, she had no task to occupy her.

And while Asami was waiting to hear back about her job next year, Korra had been on the floor, swapping the silliest of stories with Naga as they preened and combed their hair/fur out. No doubt the ease with which such a trivial occupation distracted Korra was grating on Asami’s nerves, if not contributing to them.

Korra had taken pity and come to sit with her, a sensible five inches away. Now she had Asami’s phone in her clasp. Her own smiling face stared up at her from the home screen.

“Pretty,” she mused. It got a huff out of Asami. The phone said it was about lunchtime. Korra put it down decisively and sidled closer.

“Hey, let me take you out somewhere.”

Asami’s irritation in kind surfaced again, though when she lifted her head she gave a lofty smile. “You’re going to take me out?”

Korra wasn’t, because nothing could be a surprise for Asami when she was the one driving - but at least she could make the executive decision.

-

“Boba,” she announced happily, as Asami put the key in ignition.

Asami’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said lunch.”

“There’s that place in Astoria that does both,” Korra replied as she shifted, the seat sticky and unpleasant against her legs, “come on, before you get really hangry…”

A tinkle of a laugh, finally. “You mean you,” Asami said quietly. Korra let her have that one, because a retort would only prove Asami right. Instead she shot her a contained glare, until Asami glared back and smirked.

The sweat had cooled on the backs of Korra’s legs by the time she sat down at the bar in the teashop, going for a stool to prevent more discomfort. She let Asami wait to collect their order (anything to keep her occupied) and watched the toe of her sneaker as she bumped it against the long leg of the table.

Asami arrived wearing a frown, balancing a crammed tray in her hands. “I...didn’t realise you ordered two.”

Korra shrugged, pulling the tray to her. Asami snatched her drink up before she did. “Maybe I am hangry, fine.”

“Leech,” Asami said as she sat, tongue between her teeth. “Who’s paying for all this?” She pressed her straw between a thumb and forefinger as she studied Korra’s meal, head tilting playfully. “Interesting selection.”

“Thank you. So we have a ice tea ‘cause it’s so hot, and a normal one ‘cause that one’s so cold -” Asami stifled her smile, shaking her head, “cheese croissant goes with the first one, and the milk tea goes with dessert, obviously -” Korra pointed at another croissant, not savoury. “Veg,” she added, indicating her cup of melon.

“You have two croissants,” Asami sighed into her palm, voice burbling with a dull kind of disbelief, like that was such a wild thing to do. (It wasn’t even that she was unadventurous, Korra thought, recalling the bucket of hot sauce Asami had dressed her noodles with last night.) It was cute, in light of the fact that she didn’t appear to have caught on that Korra had ordered food to trick into her stomach. Asami ‘wasn’t hungry’, of course, but she needed to eat. It was probably going to be easier to ply her in such an oblivious mood.

“So much for dessert,” she giggled, as Korra tore a section off her chocolate croissant first. She handed a perfectly casual second piece to Asami and she took it without protest, still smiling. Cake.

“How’s the tea?” Asami’s brows flashed.

For her iced tea Korra had chosen a salt cracker cheese flavour; and it was apparent from Asami’s face that she didn’t know how to feel about the layer of whipped cream cheese on top.

Korra took a long draw as Asami nibbled on her croissant wisp, wearing an expression of not quite disdain.

“‘S good. Try it,” Korra said shortly.

Asami read her like the time. “No, thank you, baby.”

“Seriously!”

“Okay, so better than the avocado, then?” Asami bargained.

Oh, that. She’d buried their last time here. Korra laughed, waving an incredulous hand. “Um, what avocado?” She pushed the hot milk tea forward. “Alright, try this one.”

Asami bent forward a little to give it an experimental suck. Her eyes approved, and she held the end of the straw from her mouth. “This is the dirty masala chai? It’s really good.” She examined the cup. “Why is it dirty?”

Korra swallowed a mouthful of croissant. “They left the cinnamon bark in, duh.” She tapped the plastic. Asami took another long draw, and whilst she was examining the length of the cup for cinnamon Korra fed her another chunk.

She didn’t let Asami pretend that her black tea was anywhere near as interesting just because it had some exotic locale tacked onto the beginning of its name.

“Where’s Nilgiri, anyway?” Korra grabbed the cup to take a sip. It was a cool and comforting blend.

Asami would never know that she probably preferred it to both of hers.

Asami shrugged, smiling when Korra continued to drink for several long seconds. “Good, though?”

“Sure,” Korra said noncommittally, “nothing special.”

Maybe nothing special was for the best sometimes.

“Sure you don’t want something else? On me! Since I’m taking you out to celebrate your promotion.”

Asami rolled her eyes as if to say, oh, is that what this is? She was doing quite a bit of that today. Korra took the opportunity to sneak more of Asami’s tea, and sneak her more croissant. Asami shook off her reluctant smile as she chewed. “Don’t, Korra, you can’t be sure…”

“Yes, I can, and I am.” Korra cupped Asami’s chin, and felt the bumps rise on Asami’s skin from her cool touch.

Asami grimaced uneasily, reluctant to relent. Her jaw loosened in Korra’s hand as her gaze trailed and fixed on Korra’s untouched cracker cheese broth.

She picked it up and took a tentative taste. Then she discreetly switched it with her own cup, placing the black tea before Korra with a smile that wasn’t even smug enough for Korra to truly chafe at.

Could Korra never win?

Whatever, she wanted this tea.

“Told you it was good,” she managed, blinking down at the cheesy tea and pressing her lips together.

Asami laughed. “Actually, it’s only as weird as I expected, so I can handle it…” She took another sip, full of composure and pointed glee - looong, like she was establishing dominance. Winked.

She was terrifically smug, it was coming out now. She held Korra’s gaze and chewed on some tapioca pearls with the same cool superiority as if she were blowing bubblegum. The she laughed, a sudden shower of clear, sweet and still very superior sound.

Screw her. But if Korra’s pride had to be the price of calming Asami’s mood right now, she’d live.


	12. Giving it a Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> birthday gift for @reallifekorraexists. established relationship

Korra’s head is blank and heavy. Her eyes bore into the reflection on her phone screen, left idle long enough to go black; and she barely notices until its near-slippage from her hand jolts her awake.

 

She sighs, bringing the phone to her chest; ankles crossed as she lies over the covers on the bed, feet on the headboard. Her head lolls to the side from its sleepy weight.

 

Just in time to catch Asami. First a clasp on the doorframe, and then Asami’s head pops around the corner into the room. 

 

“Korra? Are you up?”

 

There’s momentary surprise in her eyes as she takes Korra’s position in. “Oh! Good morning.” She flashes a small smile, but it’s her eyes that are full of exuberance. Asami’s not dressed to go out, it’s only early Saturday, but it’s plain that she’s more than awake. “Breakfast? I’ve been up for a while, but I thought we could eat together.” 

 

Korra blinks and stretches while she gathers the energy to reply. There’s a whiff of impatience about Asami even through Korra’s bleary senses. She props herself up on her elbows to answer her.

 

“‘Kay. Be down in a minute.”

 

A minute turns into five, which turns into ten, and twenty.

 

When Korra finally lurches down the stairs, Asami only briefly looks up from her coffee as she refills it, and frowns. Korra crashes into her usual chair at the table and puts her chin in her hands. (It’s nodding dangerously.)

 

“You didn’t sleep well?” Asami says, sympathy waiting ready under her words. Of course she figured, with the barrage of 3AM texts Korra had sent, knowing Asami’s phone would be on silent for the night.

 

(A guesthouse at the national park she wanted to be their next getaway ( _ this deck is way nicer! _ ); an unexpected photo on her feed of the coach she once had a semi-crush on ( _ is he hot?? _ ); some meme of the K-drama they had been slowly getting through on the ever more frequent nights in as the fall got on.)

 

Korra sniffles. “I didn’t  _ sleep _ .” 

 

Asami’s eyes widen. “You didn’t? Not at all?” She puts her little coffee jug down so quick it almost sloshes and wipes the rim in a hurry, as if in response, as if it’s going to help Korra. Maybe she intends to come and comfort her. Korra rubs her eye and and glances around absently, before finally remembering to reply. She shrugs. “Dunno.” She yawns. “It happens, right?”

 

Asami smirks. “Wanna go back to bed?” She pulls her chair out but doesn’t sit down, leaning over the table to the fruit bowl instead, pulling an apple up by the stem. She pushes it Korra’s way. “Eat, you’ve gotta be hungry if you’ve been up all night.”

 

It’s not in Korra to keep talking, now than an understanding has been established. She groans softly instead, face smushed into her now crossed arms.

 

Asami takes her cup in her hand and sits back, a calm smile playing on her face. After a while she takes a bite of Korra’s apple, and glances backwards to whatever it is she has on the stove.

 

“You should have come and woken me up. No plans today.”

 

It’s true, amongst the options Korra considered as she tossed and turned there had been that. She spent a couple hours on her phone, a couple just laying and thinking, and then she wondered if she should go crawl into Asami’s bed, bother her for a bit. But Asami had gone straight to sleep after they came home from dinner with Bolin and his new girlfriend, and Korra knew it would be her first and only truly satisfactory sleep of the week, since she was having Sunday brunch with a school friend tomorrow all the way up near Mt Vernon. So Korra hadn’t pushed her for company, twelve in the morning or three. They’d spent a decent afternoon together between work meetings and dinner yesterday.

 

Korra blows out a disdainful laugh through her lips, unfolding her arms. “Sor- _ ry  _ that I was kind enough to let you rest.” (“ _ Selfless _ ,” Asami says, pouting.) Korra sits up and slaps her hand on the table. “Come on, wake  _ me  _ up.” She frowns, tucking her hair back. “Please, I wanted to run to Tenzin’s today. Barely gone outside this week.” 

 

Yes, all the way there. Maybe her inactivity was more the weather’s fault than her own, but she was antsy; and come to think of it, that might have been part of why she couldn’t sleep.

 

A loud but private laugh interrupts her thought, and she looks up to find Asami scrolling through her phone. “That episode was  _ so  _ weird - okay, I’m not feeling the baseball cap but he  _ is  _ kind of cute -” She sits up suddenly as the timer on her phone tinkles, throwing the apple in the air and catching it as she leaves her seat.

 

For a minute or two Korra waits while Asami goes and brings her the rice and egg thing she often enjoys making for breakfast on weekends. Korra puts her face in the steam above the bowl she slides her and yawns again.

 

After a few spoonfuls Asami leaves to go grab a sweater. She opens the curtains to grey and more rain, and covers the pot on the cooker. Before she sits down again, she reaches out for Korra, combs an affectionate hand through her hair along her parting.

 

“It’s raining, honey, stay and sleep.” 

 

“No, I gotta go. I told Ikki I’d help her write for some sport scholarship thing for camp.” 

 

Asami gives her hair another stroke and then kisses her in acknowledgment. Korra smells the coffee again on her breath. 

 

“That’s strong. Give me some of that.”

 

Asami’s mouth twists. “Are you sure? You hate coffee. And it’s espresso.”

 

“You can make that at home?”

 

“You can cheat, if you really want,” Asami laughs. “Gimme a sec.”

 

She brings Korra a cup. It smells good enough, but she knows that it’s going to taste bitter and repellent. She steels herself and prepares to down it all, and only manages about half, grimacing in disgust.

 

“How do you drink this? Eugh.”  She clucks her tongue, her face screwed.

 

“Oh, it’s not that bad.”

 

“It’s  _ gross _ .” She shuts her eyes and practically inhales the rest, wiping her mouth clean almost as soon as she’d pursed it over the cup.

 

Asami’s face, when she can focus on it again, is... tickled, sure, and a little - uneasy?

 

“What?” 

 

She shakes her head. “Just thinking about how intolerable you’re gonna be in fifteen minutes.” 

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Korra says darkly, and her eyes roll skyward. “You’re the one, like, bouncing around the whole place - you ran off with my apple.”

 

Asami hasn’t even noticed and she laughs hard, throwing her head back. Her brow jumps. “Well, now you know how I feel - oh, every day of my life?” 

 

She has a tendency to ‘complain’ about Korra’s energy levels, but they’re really just an aggressive corollary of her spontaneity (Asami says) - and that Korra knows, has also been told, Asami appreciates more than anything. 

 

Asami forces a kiss on her cheek and Korra squirms but doesn’t resist. “Well, just give me fifteen minutes then, I’m gonna whoop your ass for that.” She looks at the time and the window. “I guess I’ll just take the subway.”

 

“Okay, Korra, just let me know when you crash.” Asami bites her tongue, grinning. “ _ Then _ you can come home.”

 

“And whoop your ass,” Korra repeats, glaring. She sucks her top teeth, tasting the bitter residue, and reaches for the glass of water on the table. She looks up to watch Asami watching her still with a mix of amusement and affection as she drinks. She wipes her mouth on her wrist and grins, cocking her head towards the couch. “Come and tolerate me for fifteen minutes then.” 

 

 


End file.
